A MARVEL & DC COMICS Crossover Presents: DAREDEVIL vs SCARECROW
by HeroesAmongUs
Summary: A new drug craze is sweeping through Hell's Kitchen which grants the users an indescribable sense of euphoria. However, several people of late have turned up quite literally scared to death. Daredevil will be tried and tested to see if he can live up to his title of The Man Without Fear. (Crossover) (AU) (Swearing, Drug use, Sexual Scenes and Violence)
1. Prologue

A dilapidated alleyway, stained with garbage and God knows what else, was faintly lit by a dim and flickering white light neon sign. A figure draped in shadows stepped out into the light creating an "almost" heroic-looking outline. He cautiously, yet at the same time boldly, walked forwards. Another neon sign illuminated part of his face, revealing a deep blood-red mask with small devil like horns on the top.

Daredevil pulled out one of his two billy clubs and hit it against the nearby wall. The quiet area was now completely lit up in his eyes. The sounds rolled over the walls, the floor and a body. He walked over to it, bent down and began to sniff. _It's the same guy, _he thought.

A clang echoed through the air. Daredevil leapt up and followed the sound while it was still fresh. Other sounds began to invade the trail and distort it. Cars driving down the street with the occasional horn being pressed. Someone outside a rotten bar throwing their guts up, then causally sauntering back in. Someone else receiving oral sex from a haggard looking prostitute who had been in the game for far too long.

He tried to block these other sounds out and focus. To his advantage, the guy he was following kept adding to the trail. Daredevil stood in front of a heavy metal door covered in rust. He wrapped his knuckles against the door and waited for a second. A small slit opened and a pair of angry narrowed eyes looked out. "Password, they spat.

Daredevil's only response was to grit his teeth and clench his fists. The eyes looked him up and down then narrowed once again. "Piss off, devil."

His response this time changed. He growled- or laughed- quickly raised his billy club and aimed it at the eyes. "Justice is blind, and you will be too if you don't open this door."

A heavy clunk rattled through the alleyway and the door slowly opened to reveal a short stubby man who was standing on top of a crate with his hands in the air. A bead of sweat trickled down his grimy brow and he smiled weakly. Daredevil paid no attention. He simply knocked him unconscious with a single swift blow to the head.

He could feel fierce vibrations coming towards him. Daredevil cursed and realised where he was, a nightclub. He kicked another set of doors open and was immediately hit by the stench of sweet-smelling sweat and alcohol. A few people stopped dancing and stared blankly at him. The rest seemed not to care. It was like they were in their own world of harsh vibrations and swirling colours.

Daredevil strained his ears, trying to block out everything else and listen for that heartbeat. The one that was almost out of control, slamming against the chest desperate to break free. Whatever this guy was going through was hell. Something was scaring the life out him.

_Found you. _A smile crept across his lips. He pushed past the drunkards, knocking several of them to the floor in the process. Eventually Daredevil reached the other side and stepped through a small doorway that lead to a back way exit. Sat in the corner, clawing away at himself, was the man he'd been chasing. His head shot up and as soon as he spotted Daredevil he tried to run away once again, only to have his arm grabbed in a vice like grip and thrown against the emergency exit door.

"I'm tired of chasing you." Daredevil grunted as he held the excessively sweaty man against the door. "Who is your supplier?"

"Oh God!" he screamed. "Don't hurt me, please!" Tears rolled down his face.

Daredevil listened to his heart again. It was beating far too fast. This man was having a panic attack.

"You've been dealing drugs at a school, you scumbag! Tell me your supplier, and this nightmare ends!"

"I.. he.. I can't.. I.."

The man suddenly went limp, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Then his body began to shake violently. He was having a put him on to the ground, blood trickled out his mouth from where he'd bit his tongue. He turned him on his side so he didn't choke on , as soon as it had started, it finished. His body lay still. No matter how hard Daredevil listened there was no heartbeat to be found, no sign of life at all. This man was dead. The most disturbing part of all this was that he wasn't the first.

* * *

**A MARVEL**

**AND**

**DC **

**COMICS**

**CROSSOVER:**

**Presents**

_** DAREDEVIL**_

_**VS**_

**ScARecROW**

**THE **_**MEN**_** WITHOUT **_**FEAR**_

* * *

A/N: Betaed by the fantastic Edhla. Read her work or a terrible pox shall befall you.. or something like that.


	2. Episode 1

Episode 1

'The city _screams_ to me.'

* * *

_The city screams to me. She demands my help and I answer her call. I drop everything and put my life on the line. A bat, a knife, a bullet. I've taken all of these for her, and all I ask in return is one single favour. Protect the people I love. Keep them strong in their darkest hour._

Matt Murdock knelt on the hard cold floor, at one of the many rows of pews, with his hands clasped together. He found a kind of safety within this church. This was mainly due to the fact of him attending it ever since he was little. His Father had been a strong believer in religion when he discovered it later on in his life. Matt remembered that his Father would say it was the foundation blocks of being on the straight and narrow. The older he got the more he laughed at that statement. _Poor old man._

Matt slowly stood up and exited the church, tapping his cane against the ground from side to side. He never really knew why he used it. There was always enough noise in Hell's Kitchen to allow him to "see". Then again what would people say? A blind man boldly walking about. He must be faking it, how dare he!

He chuckled to himself and wondered how they'd react if they knew he jumped from rooftop to rooftop at night and beat criminals into a bloody pulp. Matt flicked his left wrist out and ran his fingers across his watch. It had been a present from Foggy, his best friend and partner at their own law firm. The watch itself was covered in Braille instead of numbers. Matt cursed to himself as he realised he was now late, work had started half an hour ago.

* * *

"An hour late Matt!" Was the first words said to him as he entered through the front door of Nelson & Murdock. The voice in question belonged to Foggy. "I don't mind you being late but you need to phone ahead to tell me."

"I'm sorry, Foggy, I lost track of time at church." He said whilst heading towards their joint and heavily cluttered office. "I was praying for your soul."

"You know it's too late for me." He said dismissively with a large file in his hand. "But it isn't too late for us to accept the Laymen's case."

Matt sighed as he sat down in his old brown padded chair that gave off a familiar squeak which rippled through the air. He liked the squeak, it was his squeak. "We're not taking that case, we only represent the innocent."

Foggy huffed as he threw down the papers on his desk in frustration. "Why are the guilty always rich? Do you know how much they are offering pay us if we represent them?"

"What if I just said yes?" Matt questioned with his arms folded. "What if I told you that they burnt down their own house for the insurance money, which I know they did, almost killed their pets that they forgot about and left inside and to top it all off the fire almost spread to their neighbor's house. Could you still fight for them knowing the truth?"

Foggy looked at him with a quizzical look. "First off you _don't_ know that, all you did was ask several questions then walked out of the office like you always do with our potential rich clients, and second, maybe I could."

Matt laughed and slightly leant back causing his chair to squeak again with strain. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are. I've known you since School, I know when you're lying."

"How?" Foggy protested whilst starting to aimlessly shuffle his papers that sat around his desk, desperate for some kind of distraction.

_Because I can hear your heart beat from a mile off. _"Because I've known you practically my whole life. I can sense when you're lying."

Foggy stopped what he was doing and stared at Matt. "What are you, a Jedi? I mean, are you sure you're even blind under those glasses?"

Matt laughed again and shook his head. "Oh, I'm pretty sure."

A loud thump caused both of them turn round and look at the doorway. Foggy was the first to go find out what the noise was. Suddenly a woman's voice yelled something and a scruffy looking man ran towards Foggy who moved surprisingly fast and grabbed hold of him. The benefit of being a large man, he did have strength on his side.

"Where do you think you're going, buddy?" Foggy said boldly as he pushed the man against the wall getting him to spread his arms and legs. Something he'd seen the police do numerous times.

"Easy, mate!" The man exclaimed with a strong British accent. "I ain't got nuffin on me."

"It's all right Foggy," Matt told him, motioning him to let him go.

"Christ, that's a shitty welcome. You give all your customers that treatment?" He sniffed whilst brushing himself down.

The woman who had screamed earlier had been their receptionist, Karen Page. She strode into the office as if ready to hit someone. "When I said wait, I meant wait!" She forcefully told the man who jerked his head backwards from the scolding.

"Yeah, sorry about that love. It was a bit of an emergency."

She glared at him, then headed back towards her desk, whilst flicking back a strand of her blonde hair and mumbling something about her fist and his face being an emergency.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Matt asked bluntly whilst squeezing the top of his cane tightly.

"My name is Damien Clark and I want to sue." The man said proudly.

"I'm not sure why I'm asking this," Foggy sighed whilst rubbing his eyes. "But why and who?"

"Well," Damien said clearing his throat. "This geezer who usually sells me my... Medication,"

"Get out." Foggy said grabbing him by the collar.

"Eh? Why?"

"Because I've heard this before."

"Wait." Matt said. "Let's just hear what he has to say, then you can throw him out."

Damien carried on but slightly faster this time in case one of them changed their minds before he finished. "My guy introduced me to another guy who was selling this new drug. Apparently it's this boom that's going on, had a funny name to it like... EPH 45, anyway, he sells me it. Bloody amazing high, I mean I was off my tits. But later on I start to get the sweats, and I mean pretty bad ones. I'm starting to see all manner of nasty images. Stronger than any type of hallucinogenic I had before. They felt real, mate. Next thing I know is I'm in hospital after a three day sodding coma. I've been in there all bloody week. I wanna sue that bastard who sold me it. He all most killed me!"

Foggy, still shaking his head in disbelief, went to grab Damien again who quickly side stepped him.

"What did you see?" Matt asked. Something about what Damien had said had sparked an interest, and possibly a memory.

"Proper nightmares," He told him with a serious and slightly frightened tone. "One of them was spiders, and I hate spiders. Thought my heart was going to give out."

Matt began to remember the other night. _That junkie had died from fear. He had exuded all the symptoms of a massive panic attack then just dropped dead, much like the others before him It was like they'd been scared to death by something. _"Who sold you the drug?"

"Just a guy, you know. Look do I 'ave a case or..."

Foggy cut him off. "Matt you're seriously not going to do this to me are you?"

"You don't have a case, you're a drug addict who brought the merchandise under his own will." Matt told him. "But I want the dealer's name. I have... a friend, who can track him down and catch him in the act. I'll keep your name quiet. No one will ever know it was you who tipped me. I promise."

Damien shuffled on the spot uncomfortably. "You know, back in England a Lawyers' word isn't exactly solid, and from what I've heard you're all of the same breed."

"You came to me Mr. Clarke." Matt reminded him, his voice becoming slightly softer. "This dealer almost killed you, he could kill others. Do you want that on your conscience?"

Damien huffed and puffed with conflict, it looked like this was the most difficult decision he'd made in his life. "Ah shit, all right. He goes by some stupid name of Minty. He wears a red baseball cap and hangs round this dive called The Irish Luck. You keep my name out this though."

"I promise, Mr. Clarke. Now try and kick the habit would you." Matt told him as he shuffled out of the office and towards the front doors. _Have a wash too._

"You have a friend. Ah, that was good." Foggy laughed. "I thought that only worked in the movies."

"What makes you think I don't have a friend?"

Because me and Karen are your only friends, you actually have to socialise to have friends you know." He teased. "Anyway, I need to make a few phones calls to certain people." He said whilst casually slipping out of the office.

"We're not taking the Laymen case!" Matt shouted after him. He knew his old friend far too well.

* * *

Once the darkness of night cloaked Hell's Kitchen the devil prowled the rooftops. He ran from shadow to shadow like a beast of the underworld. Daredevil was heading towards The Irish Luck. He grasped each billy club in his hands. As well as being his faithful weapons they also served as grappling hooks. This allowed him to swing gracefully between those large gaps that if he attempted to jump next thing he'd know would be street pizza.

It wasn't long until he reached the location. Daredevil gritted his teeth slightly and turned his nose up upon seeing it. _I can smell it from here. A rotten dive where only the corrupt and stupid go. Everyone knows this place is built from shit, figures it would attract flies. _He thought about how he could enter the joint. _Guns blazing, metaphorically of course, or I could slip in. Hmm, fat lot of good that would do me. I'd be lucky if I could remain unnoticed for about ten seconds, not to mention being unable to spot his red baseball cap. Looks like the hard way then... I really hate being blind sometimes._

Daredevil ran towards the end of the roof and slid down the drain pipe. The moment his boots hit the floor he sped across the road and past a tramp who said something about Jesus and his eternal soul and finally to the front door. He kicked it open with brute force and stood there trying to strike his most menacing pose. Everything fell deadly silent as they all looked up and stared at him. One person dropped his crocked cigarette into his beer, which let off a small "fsssh" sound, whilst another mumbled something about how lucky he was that the door opened both ways.

"Where are you Minty?" Daredevil growled like a feral animal. It even sent a shiver down his own spine. "The devil wants his due." A tiny twisted smirk leapt onto his face. The heartbeat of one of the patrons considerably rose. It was no doubt Mintys.

Daredevil strode over to him. He was instantly met with the smell of weed and stale beer. "Hey, how you doing?" He threateningly mocked.

Minty, who looked to be in his mid thirties with that essence of no hope scrawled over his face, squeaked back. It was quite pathetic really.

"Let's take this outside." Daredevil said as he grabbed his collar with one hand and threw him across the floor like a rag doll.

Another patron stood up, a large man wearing black grubby workman boots, dusty cargo pants held up with thin black braces and a stained white vest. He embodied the stereotypical look of someone that worked on boats all day. "What do you think you're doing, matey?" And he was Irish as well.

Daredevil paid no attention to him and carried on walking towards Minty who was nervously trying to pick himself up off the disgusting floor.

The brute of a man grabbed his arm tightly. "I said what do you think you're doing?"

Daredevil had been in this situation before. A few words would be exchanged and then a fight would break out and the whole place would be swinging fists and shouting abuse. _I don't have time for this tonight._ He swung his billy club against the side of his face with a merciless force. The impact was followed by a loud crack, but not a thump. A thump was the most important part, it meant that the person, or persons, had hit the floor unconscious and beaten. The thump was the best part.

He looked up and saw the man stagger slightly from the impact and hold his thick jaw. Daredevil raised his other club and slammed it against his left knee, causing it to buckle, and finally brought both clubs to a violent wallop against either side of his head. Finally the thump was heard.

"Anyone else?" He grunted whilst spinning the clubs around in his hands. _No reply. Good. _Daredevil kicked Minty out the front doors who had been standing fully upright but frozen in fear as to what had happened.

Once they'd both left the joint a small man in the corner with a red looking face nodded towards the bruised and slightly bloodied body on the floor and mumbled. "I never liked that fucker." Rip roaring laughter followed this and the patrons within continued drinking, swearing and smoking once again as if nothing had even happened.

Outside was a completely different case. Daredevil had dragged Minty down an alleyway and had his back against a cold and uncomfortable brick wall.

"I know what you're selling." He barked. "And I want to know who is supplying you punks with the drug!"

"I can't tell you." He squirmed. "The guy is crazy. He'll kill me."

"Yeah," Daredevil nodded back. "they all say that. Then something in them snaps, and before they know it they're telling me all their deepest darkest secrets. You wouldn't believe what I know, the things that some scum bags claimed to have done."

"W...What you talking about man?" He stuttered, not fully understanding what was happening.

"Murder, rape, adultery, stealing, assault... Torture. " He held Minty closer, now only an inch away from his face. "When punks like you snap, they can't help but poor out all their dirty little secrets."

"Oh my god, you're insane." He blubbered.

Daredevil snarled with twisted glee. "Probably." _That always gets them. Sometimes I think I enjoy this too much. Judge, jury and executioner._ "Now, what are we going to break first, unless you want to talk that is?"

"I do, I do! I don't know the guys real name, in fact we've never actually seen his face. He does all that hiding in the shadows crap to freak us out. Huge spot lights shining behind him. He calls himself Hangman." He blurted out uncontrollably.

"Where do you meet?" He interrogated, pushing harder on his neck.

Minty choked slightly and his voice became restrained. "A warehouse down by the docks. I forget the number." The moment he finished that sentence he felt his head slam against the wall and possibly begin to bleed slightly. "Arllgg!"

"Arlg?" Daredevil mocked in an uncaring tone. "Didn't they teach you anything in school? Respect your betters? I bet you didn't even go to school, did you?"_ I'm really starting to get tired of this. I swear they used to talk a lot faster when I first started out._

"Warehouse 13." He coughed whilst he held the back of his head in pain.

"Thanks Minty," he said pulling him away from the wall. "Here, have a drink on me." Daredevil threw him onto the ground and into a nearby puddle where various cigarette butts floated mixed with general dirt and grime. Minty slowly looked back up, still holding his head and his tears back, only see an empty alleyway.


End file.
